Well, tonight I read from Chapter 8 on so that's freshest, but I gotta say overall how impressive you are at writing this sprawling Muppet Show fic. I'd be overwhelmed, but you handle each character as they come with nice pacing and detail (not to mention smart comedy), and the overarching story is always present too (from what I can remember), with one of the Eagles in the fray at all times.

I love your Sam/Rowlf moments. You really seem to enjoy writing for both characters, and you're great at it, too!

The small talk with Paul and Kermit is great. I always love guest stars' conversations with Kermit, they are some of my favorite Muppet Show moments

Rocky Raccoon with Gonzo as Rocky was just so funny, so I wanted to mention it. I could see it all happening so clearly! And from even earlier, this bit:

'Dr. Teeth begin putting in a little fill after the chorus, something Piggy was not expecting.​

"and when…and…Hey! Hey! What are you doing?"​

"Just adding a little piece to the song, a little spice, a little flair, a little-"​

"Cut it short, you walking thesaurus."'
...that was so believable and funny, too. This latest chapter was cute, and Andrew/Kermit's interaction was great because it is one example of how well you've written Kermit. He's sweet, collected, but also direct (when he tells Andrew to cut out the hug and such). Can't wait to read more now that I'm caught up -end random bits of feedback- Sweet job, Charlie!!

Whew! This chapter took over a month to write, with breaks for emotional problems and the holidays and the Fraggles, but I have done it! A quick thanks to Slackbot for letting me borrow her given name for Dr. Teeth. Also, there is consumption of alcohol by Muppets in this chapter.

************​

You are cordially invented to the ​

California Education Association's Charity Dinner​

honoring Donors of the Year​

Tuesday, October 23 at the Ritz-Carlton​

​

"Is that an open bar, hokay?"​

​

"Pepe, they will be serving drinks at the dinner! You don't need to be drinking in the lobby!"​

​

"Hokay, hokay. Don't get uptight, Kermit."​

​

The Muppets were making their way through the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton, on their way to the Gold Ballroom where a crowd of tables and suited older people were waiting. This was a very prestigious event, one that celebrated the individuals and groups who donated the most time and money to helping out education programs in California throughout the year. The Muppets had been invited for their work with the School for the Gifted and Talented Whatnot, and the children were even going to play at the dinner. ​

​

But before anyone could see the kids play or be honored, everyone had to keep their clothes on. This was a black-tie affair, which meant that simply wearing a scarf or a green collar or even whatever the heck Sweetums wore would not fly this evening. Suits and dresses were on tap for the evening, and many Muppets were fidgeting with their clothes as they filed into the guest room. ​

​

"Kermit, my tie is too tight!"​

​

"Fozzie, you know you can loosen the tie."​

​

"But I don't want to look too informal."​

​

As they filed into the room, already half-filled with teachers, politicians, educators and children, wait staff helped escort the Muppets to their seats. A dapper-looking waiter strolled up to Sam and his two children.​

The three eagles navigated through the maze of tables and drink carts being pushed around, Hillary needing to gently move Andrew out of the way of a poor waitress carrying a bottle of 1985 Chardonnay.​

​

"Here is your table. You will be sitting with a Miss Janice Hunt, a Mister Floyd Pepper, and a Mr John Wogglebug'. A waiter will be around with the drink cart momentarily."​

"And I do not appreciate the comments from the rogues' gallery across the way."​

​

"Like, it's only one glass. And sparkling wine has all those bubbles in it, less room for alcohol."​

​

"There's nothing wrong with a fine glass o' vino, as the good doctor said. In fact, sometimes me and Jan go out in the yard with a bottle and a blanket and some Isaac Hayes records and-"​

​

"ENOUGH! My children do not need to hear discussion of what you do in the backyard. Now please."​

​

Dr. Teeth laughed into his drink.​

​

"Is something funny?"​

​

"You're a prude, baby, a prude."​

​

"And is there something wrong with that?"​

​

Floyd cut in. "Sam's just cranky because his bit got bumped in rehearsal for our number."​

​

"I am not mad about that, I am mad about your unsavory choices for dinner conversation. Though there's no reason why your latest collection of cacophony should have bumped my speech on John Adams."​

​

"Sam, I like think your speech missed the point, the Alien and Sedition Acts were not good laws at all, okay."​

​

"What do YOU know about John Adams?"​

​

Janice crossed her arms. "I took my history classes in high school too."​

​

"Hmmph." Sam snorted in the general direction of the three musicians, while his children sipped their drinks while gritting their teeth at the general atmosphere of the table. The deafening silence lasted for a small eternity until the arrival of the appetizer cart gave everyone something to smile about.​

​

Hillary bravely spoke up. "This caesar salad is very good."​

​

"My compliments and kudos to the shelf. Just like Mama used to buy."​

​

"Don't you mean cook, Teeth?"​

​

"Nope. She was never much of a cook. Preferred to order out."​

​

"Okay then." Hillary went back to her salad confusedly.​

​

Meanwhile, Andrew excitedly leapt into a plate full of potato skins.​

​

"Potato skins? Potato skins? Really, Andrew? This is a black tie dinner and you are eating potato skins?"​

​

"Mmm! They're good!" He picked one up off his plate and lifted it in front of Sam's eyes. "Look. There are little bits of chives in with the cheese! Chives!"​

​

Sam slapped the skin down, which landed in the middle of the table with a barely audible thud. "I don't need to see that up close and personal."​

​

Floyd picked up the potato skin with his fork and ate it. "Thanks, buddy!"​

​

"You're welcome?" Andrew was extremely confused at the recent series of events.​

​

And so went the evening, more stares and disapprovals and awkward jokes from the musicians. The only break from the action came with the plates of food being set down by the orderly wait staff. As the dinner was being finished, Rowlf sidled up to the table.​

​

"Hillary! Andrew! The children are almost ready to line up and get set to perform, so I need your help. Hillary, you make sure no one has any food on their shirt, and Andrew, I need you to help move the drums into place."​

​

"Let's do this!"​

​

"Do you have any gloves? I've seen how Jarrett and Frederick eat, and if that's any indication…."​

​

Rowlf put his arm around Hillary as they walked away. "We have plenty of paper towels."​

​

The three walked away, through the tables and behind the stage in the ballroom, while Sam sat, picking at the rest of his green beans.​

​

"Sam," said Dr. Teeth quietly, "your children have really made an dynamic impact here since they brought their talents to Los Angeles."​

​

"I guess so…"​

​

"But you don't seem to realize that choice fact, do you?"​

​

Sam finally looked up from his beans. "What?"​

​

Dr. Teeth shook his head. "At every turn, at every possible bump in the road, you only critique, criticize, chastise, complain, and I could go on but I don't have my Merriam Webster with me. My dear eagle, you need to lighten up."​

​

"Lighten up? I'm just trying to be the best possible father out there. I don't think you understand how tough it is to raise a child."​

​

"Maybe I don't, but the truth of the matter is those little eagles are no longer eaglets."​

​

Floyd chimed in. "You can't hold their wings back much longer."​

​

"But, like, you guys don't really have wings anymore, they seem to have changed evolutionary, you know. Trading flying for writing is kinda fair though."​

​

Sam crossed his arm-wings. "Raising a child isn't just making sure they can tie their shoes and recite all the Supreme Court justices, it's making sure they can become good adults, productive members of society, and such. They still have a ways to go, and I need to make sure they get there. Matty certainly wasn't doing that in Virginia, so I had to step in."​

​

Dr. Teeth stuck his long arm across the table, pointing it at the stage. '"Look up there at those eagles."​

​

Hillary and Rowlf were in deep conversation with a couple of dignitaries, cheerily conversating, while Andrew was gladly moving the drums according to Scooter's work.​

​

"Those are some great kids out there, and they have an excellent future ahead of them. I would be a lot of prouder of them if I were in your jet-black dress shoes from the Art Linkletter collection."​

​

Sam swallowed. "Are you saying I'm not proud of my children?" ​

​

"You sure don't act like it," snapped Floyd.​

​

"I never! I never heard such things from a bunch of drug-taking layabout musicians who have barely accomplished anything in their lives! I am an excellent father who doesn't need to hear any of this garbage from you fools! Please excuse me while I take myself elsewhere."​

​

Sam tossed his napkin down on the table, spilling his drink across his plate as he left, leaving Teeth, Floyd, and Janice in a bit of shock.​

​

"Like, do you think Sam's all that upset," wondered Janice.​

​

Dr. Teeth sighed. "He's got a couple of veritable gems in those kids, who are on their way to being fine, classic adults. He's treating them like they can't even wipe their nose."​

​

"Sometimes you have to learn the hard way," added Floyd, who suddenly noticed that Sam's glass of iced tea was beginning to spill on the tablecloth.​

​

"Waiter! We need a cleanup crew STAT!" shouted Floyd across the room.​

​

"Bring a dessert menu too!," smiled Dr. Teeth.​

​

***********​

Coming up next in Chapter Fourteen: A conversation at the bar between two of our friends goes in unexpected directions.​

Thanks guys! I really appreciate the kind words on this one, since it was so hard to write (dialogue with three or more people is tough for me). I sincerely hope the next installment will take less than a month to write!

Yay, thanks! just got around to reading this when I happened to be having an exhausting, bitter day, so thank you! as for the story... I'm glad the bartender sided with Hilary-and Floyd said everything I've been dying to say for the past few chapters. Sometimes the best parents don't know they are so because technically they aren't parents yet. GO FLOYD!

And yes, I bet Sam will learn...the hard way.: I have nothing to learn! My parenting skills are exceptional!
Sigh...

*arms crossed* Do I need to remind you of a story which began with a bottle of red wine? And ended...ahem...

Oh yeah. Actually I could stand to go look at that again...

AHEM! Can we get back to the comments on THIS tale?

But Newsie, you don't have a tail.

Okay, okay, simmer down everyone...

Bork?

Especially YOU, yes.

...This is a magnificent chapter. Perfect blend of real drama and Muppety yuks. Someone finally calling out a Reality Check on Sam is long overdue, and his reaction predictable (he's too self-absorbed to accept criticism, and too insecure about his own failings as a family bird). Well done!

Someone needs to tell Janice, however, that bubbly wine actually makes you drunk FASTER. Carbonation speeds blood absorption. This has been a Muppet Health News Flash.

I finally managed to line up enough brain cells to do some reading! And I'll pat myself on the back for having excellent taste in fanfic. This continues to be a good story. Thank you for having someone tell Sam what a twit he's being toward his kids. They're a lot gentler about it than I would have been, fer sure.

My favorite line in this chapter: "At every turn, at every possible bump in the road, you only critique, criticize, chastise, complain, and I could go on but I don't have my Merriam Webster with me." Dr. Teeth does talk like he swallowed a thesaurus, doesn't he?

I wonder who made out the seating chart. It had to be someone with either a sense of humor or a grudge, putting most of The Electric Mayhem with the Eagles. Or the Mayhem drew the short straw.

For anyone who wonders about the odd name, well, I always thought Dr. Teeth looked like a big beetle, and one of the characters in L. Frank Baum's Oz series is Professor Wogglebug, who looks like he could be a distant relation.

In conclusion, thanks for posting the story and for credit for the Wogglebug thang, and I look forward to the next chapter, whenever it comes out.

So maybe this latest installment did nearly take a month to write. Oops....

Chapter Fourteen​

​

"…and that is why I believe that as long as we are here for our children today, they will be here for the rest of the world tomorrow. Thank you."​

​

And with a hearty round of applause, Rowlf the Dog walked off the stage at the ballroom to the strains of the children playing some Beethoven piece behind him. Scooter, naturally assuming the role of stagehand even when he wasn't running the event, was the first to greet him offstage.​

​

"Great speech, Rowlf! You really had the crowd eating out of your hand!"​

​

"Well, as long as they weren't eating off of my plate because I had a couple pieces of steak left. By the way, which way to the men's room?"​

​

"Go out the back door here, then up the hall to the lobby, then past the bar, first door on the right."​

​

"Thanks!"​

​

Rowlf briskly made his way to the hallway. Making speeches was stressful; it was one thing to be on-stage with a piano, but another thing entirely to be on stage all by himself with no piano bench. You had to be intelligent, charming, warm, interesting, everything when talking to a crowd like this. It took a lot of rehearsal and deep breaths and note cards and drinks of water to get himself calmed down and ready to talk. And now all that water was coming back to haunt him.​

​

Nearly running now, he passed the lobby, which was fairly quiet. A handful of tourist types coming in and out, while a couple of businessmen celebrated their latest deal at the bar. There also was a forlorn-looking bird of some kind at the end of the bar, but he didn't think much of it as he scurried into the lavatory.​

As Rowlf expressed his dislike for hand dryers as he walked out of the bathroom, his eyes met with the bird he had passed before. This was no strange bird, but Sam the Eagle, hunched over what appeared to be some sort of margarita, with a look of dismay and disgust over his face. The sight took Rowlf aback, as he had never seen Sam drink before. But he had also never seen Thog in a suit or Animal using a fork before, so tonight was proving to be a night full of firsts. He sat down on the stool next to Sam.​

​

"Sam? What's going on?"​

​

He just looked down at his strawberry margarita before mumbling "Nothing. I'm fine. Go away."​

​

"I don't think so. Are you sure you're okay?"​

​

"Yes." Sam's words seemed to slur a bit.​

​

"Are you really, really sure?"​

​

"Yes."​

​

Rowlf stayed on the stool next to Sam for a couple more minutes, as he knew that Sam would likely start talking at some point. Drinking led to that in some people.​

​

"Rowlf, you're my, um, friend, right?"​

​

"Yes, Sam, we're good friends."​

​

"And you've known me for a long time, since back, um, when we lived in London."​

​

"Yes, that was back when you joined the gang."​

​

"So you know I'm a good person. I don't cheat on my taxes! I don't take change out of vending machines that isn't mine! I always hold doors open for the infirm!"​

​

We're not supposed to take that change out of the vending machine? Oops. Rowlf had a momentary pang of guilt before Sam continued his questioning.​

​

"So I just don't know WHY everyone here thinks I'm a bad person! Those hash-smoking rascals in the Mayhem just told me I wasn't proud of my children! How would they know that?"​

​

"They're just talking about what they see from you."​

​

"So you think I'm not proud of them either? Judgmental mongrel!"​

​

Rowlf took a deep breath. This was going to take a while. ​

​

"Sam, you have two very nice children. I've worked at the after school program with Hillary for nearly two months now and she definitely is going to make a great teacher in a couple of years, and Andrew does great work on the set, so-"​

​

"And that's because Matty and I taught them well!"​

​

"Yes, you guys did and-"​

​

"So then why is everybody giving me such a hard time?"​

​

Rowlf sighed, then waved to the bartender. "I'll have two waters please."​

​

"Put a lemon in mine!"​

​

Sam then returned to his slumped pose and depressed monologue. "Just because I still like to make sure my children have values doesn't mean I'm bad."​

​

"Sam, your children are older now. They don't need you to spoon-feed them everything."​

​

He looked up at Rowlf. "But then they might make the wrong choice."​

​

"Kids need to make mistakes sometimes. It's how you learn. I'm sure you made some mistakes when you were younger."​

​

"Yes. I supported Pat Robertson in the 1988 Republican primaries. Waste of a vote."​

​

"Well, as obscure as that mistake may be, you learned something from that, right?"​

​

"Yes. To always support the front-runner. So much easier that way."​

​

"So if you can learn from your mistakes, why can't Andrew and Hillary?"​

​

"Because if they listen to ME, then they won't make any mistakes in the first place."​

​

Rowlf wished he ordered something stronger than a water as he took a long sip from his glass.​

​

"Sam, when I was done with high school, I had a scholarship offer to study music at Boston College-"​

​

"Hotbed of liberal thought. Pssh!"​

​

"But I wanted to go out on my own, I wanted to tour and play in a band, to see the music scene. My parents weren't for it, but they knew that I was going to have to see for myself what happened out there. So they let me go out there."​

​

"They should have sent you to a military college! Virginia Military Institute, I hear they're excellent!"​

​

"They told me there was always a place for me at home if I wanted to come back. The first few months on the road were hard. I was playing jazz piano backing up "Randy Gnu and the Gnoobers Jazz Singers" through their tour of northern Ohio. Sleeping in crummy hotels, playing to twenty people a gig, getting paid in bags of Snyder's Pretzels. But I learned so much from it, and after awhile I met Jimmy Dean after a gig, and one thing led to another."​

​

"Congratulations. Love his sausages."​

​

"Yes, they are quite good. But that's not the point. My parents may have thought I was making a mistake, but they knew it was my decision, so they let me go through with it. I was an adult."​

​

"So you're saying that I should just let my children do whatever they want, even if it's OBVIOUSLY the wrong choice."​

​

Rowlf took a sip out of his water. "Yes. I can imagine that's hard as a parent, but I think it's only fair to your children. Andrew and Hillary are good people. They deserve to be given the chance to make their own decisions."​

​

Sam didn't say anything to that.​

​

"Look Sam, don't you have any faith in your kids and what you've taught them?"​

​

"What do you mean?"​

​

"If you've worked so hard to teach them all these years, what makes you think they haven't learned yet?"​

​

"What-well-I-"​

​

Rowlf stretched his arms and stood up. It was about time to get back to the ballroom. Dessert was being served soon, and that couldn't be missed. ​

​

"All I'm trying to say is that if you've worked hard to teach someone something, they've got to be tested one of these days. That's what your wife does, right? Teach her students the material and then test them."​

​

"Well, yes."​

​

"So give your kids a chance to see if they've learned. I think you'll see that they did."​

​

"mmmmrrrrrr……." Sam mumbled in Rowlf's direction.​

​

"Now, come on! It's time for dessert. They have all kinds of cake, and pie, and ice cream. If that won't make you feel better then I don't know what will. Let's go!"​

​

Sam slowly stirred from his seat, only stopping to peel a few dollars out of his wallet for his drinks. Rowlf was standing by the bar waiting when he stopped a crowd of people running out of the ballroom towards the door.​

​

"Yes! We got the cake cart! Let's go!"​

​

A cart full of cakes went whizzing down the hall, several rats led by Rizzo riding shotgun, followed by an exasperated Kermit and several hotel staff members.​

​

"Guys! Come on! Come back with that cake!"​

​

Rowlf blinked several times before turning back to Sam.​

​

"Well, hope you weren't too excited about the cake."​

​

**************​

Coming up in Chapter Fifteen: Rashida Jones' true identity is questioned and the script is debated backstage at the Muppet Theater.​

yay! Another chapter of Charlietheowl's story! And since I finally have the new laptop, I can, at last, give you the long review if you that you deserve.
This story was great from the opening line

and that is why I believe that as long as we are here for our children today, they will be here for the rest of the world tomorrow. Thank you."

Click to expand...

It was a really good idea to set off this chapter with Rowlf talking about the very same issue that Sam is struggling with, and yet Sam is not in the same room to receive it. Though he may show up at every election, Sam sometimes runs a little late when it comes to life lessons.

[QUOTEThis was no strange bird, but Sam the Eagle, hunched over what appeared to be some sort of margarita, with a look of dismay and disgust over his face. The sight took Rowlf aback, as he had never seen Sam drink before. But he had also never seen Thog in a suit or Animal using a fork before, so tonight was proving to be a night full of firsts.][/QUOTE]

Oh my gosh, Sam is drunk? This is the bird who wouldn't let his legally of age daughter have anything but water from the bar. I suppose that's the point. Nice bit of irony there. If his kids had walked in at the moment, I have a feeling that they would have thought he was somebody else.

I don't take change out of vending machines that isn't mine! I always hold doors open for the infirm!"

We're not supposed to take that change out of the vending machine? Oops. Rowlf had a momentary pang of guilt before Sam continued his questioning.​

Click to expand...

​

​

I never steal from the vending machine. I even feel guilty if I pick up lost pencils or fallen change. Guess this offbeat teenager has something in common with the republican eagle after all. ​

​

As a sort of relevant aside, do any of you guys still in school have trouble with your hand dryers? Does it take forever for the office to fix them? And if they break the day after they're fixed? Or is it just my school? Do all schools have some and mysterious grudge against paper towels? I suppose this question should go in the rant thread… Needless to say, I feel Rowlf's pain.​

​

Really good story, I can't wait to see if all this advice has affected Sam at all. The teaser at the end has me really excited, because we all know what happens when the Muppets get the script wrong.​

​

As for the next chapter taking too long to finish, I'm still dusting off and plotting a rewrite for my most recent story, so don't be too worried about it. You're in good company. You're doing awesome, so just keep plugging away!​

Thanks for the comments and kind words guys! I didn't want Sam to come off as stumbling drunk here, just a little tipsy enough that he might be freer with his words and feelings than he usually is. And I promise that this next chapter won't take as long to write, mainly because it's definitely a lighter matter than this one.